


Through Fiery Strands

by MadKingV3rn0n



Category: BioShock, BioShock Infinite
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Hair Brushing, Lutecest, Tie pulling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:03:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadKingV3rn0n/pseuds/MadKingV3rn0n
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert hates the way that she treats her beautiful, fiery hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Fiery Strands

He sits on their shared bed and watches her closely. She sits at her vanity table, running a brush coarsely through her thick hair. Her jaw is clenched tightly as she tugs the wires through the tangled mane. He frowns, he hates the way she treats her beautiful locks. 

He coughs, earning her attention. “Sister, may I brush your hair?” 

Rosalind scoffs, turning her attention back to the mirror, “I think I’m completely capable of brushing my own hair, thank you.” She begins to brush her hair once again, ignoring his smug gaze. Her jaw clenches as she runs the brush through a particularly rough patch.

Robert yanks the brush from her grip, unable to continue to watch her damage her hair. “Obviously not,” he sneers, running his hands down her frizzed hair. He begins to move the brush through her hair lightly and tenderly. 

Soon, the tangles begin to loosen as he glides the brush through her hair. The strands begin to flow freely through, falling down past her shoulders. He hums in satisfaction, “See, that’s not too difficult now is it?” He smiles at her reflection and sits the brush down onto the table. He his hands move to her shoulders, “We make quite the pair,” says Robert with a smile, straightening his spine. Two nearly identical faces stared back at one another, their frosty blue eyes trained on each other. He smiled and began to run his long fingers down her shoulders and arms, causing cold chills to run down her spine.

Rosalind nods stiffly, a blush beginning to form across her freckled cheeks. “It would appear that we do,” she struggled out, her voice thick. He smirked; he knew exactly what he was doing to her. His fingers return to her neck, running his fingers across every inch possible. He then began to press light kisses upon her throat, smiling when she felt her melt beneath him. His mind began to wander as he continued his movements, wondering how far she would let him go. Rosalind places her hands on his, stopping him, “I will never understand your utter fascination with my hair." Her voice was course as if she hadn't spoken in years.

“Why?" Robert asked, moving his hands back up to her hair. "You have such beautiful hair,” Robert whispers, his long fingers running through her fiery hair, the tresses smooth. He closes his eyes and sighs deeply in contentment; he could spend all of their days like this, together without a care in the world. When they were together there was no one else, they were all the needed. 

“It’s such a hassle," she said, removing his hands from her hair. She didn't want him to tangle it once more.

“Ah yes, but a beautiful hassle nonetheless.” He pressed another quick kiss to her neck, smiling against her skin whenever he felt her shiver, “You must let me brush it more often, dear sister.”  
She turns around and pulls his tie down to meet her lips. 

She pulls away and runs a hand over his scruffy cheeks, “Only if you let me give you a shave.”

He pecks her lips once again, “Done.”


End file.
